One Time Too Many
by DarcyGreyCoulter
Summary: Draco has always been a coward with a foul mouth, but he's got his heart in the right place. When he gets involved with Hermione after the war, he learns to love her deeply but refuses to let it show... How much of his shit will she take before she has enough? One-shot: possibly more.
1. Chapter 1: Draco's Mistake too Many

**Before we start: All the honor for these characters goes to the amazing J.K. Rowling. This is simply a little one-shot about Malfoy fucking up. I might continue the story if there's any interest.**

 **Please review!**

 **DPOV**

Where the hell was she?

Draco was stalking the hallways like a madman, searching for the one person that was always able to make his blood boil.

Hermione fucking Granger.

But this time he _wished_ he was yelling in anger. If he had been angry, he would've been able to block out that horrific feeling that tightened his chest. If he had been angry, he wouldn't feel like he was dying from despair. If he had been angry, he wouldn't feel so damn guilty.

"Granger!" He yelled, slamming open yet another door to – yet another – room in his big mansion. Seriously, half of these rooms he'd never been in before. Why did his house even have all these rooms? The house elves seemed to clean them properly though.

"Morty!" He yelled, calling his house elf. "Where the hell is Granger?"

"Morty can not say, master. Morty promised."

"Who the hell pays you, Morty?" Draco threatened venomously. "I'd reconsider my loyalties if I were you."

"Master only pays because Miss Granger wants him to."

Well, he had a point there. It wasn't that Draco hadn't wanted to pay the elves. It's just the way he was raised: House elves were slaves you could bitch about for whatever. For the remainder of his youth the care of the house elves had been in the hands of his parents, it wasn't until after the war when his father had been sent to Azkaban, he'd finally had a choice in the matter.

A choice he'd never even considered he had.

Paying elves? The notion was ridiculous.

Had someone told his 12-year-old self he'd be doing that six years from then, Draco was sure he would've died laughing. But war changes people and with them, their perspective on things.

Draco's certainly had.

But even so, paying elves hadn't been his top priority after the war. Reestablishing the Malfoy name in the Wizarding world and building up all that had been destroyed of town… Now _that_ were priorities. Unfortunately, those priorities came in considerable cooperation with the know-it-all Golden girl and his childhood foe Hermione Granger.

And she hadn't let him live it down if he hadn't made the drastic changes in his household with regards to his unpaid house elves. It was high on her list of terms for her to cooperate with him and so he had consented in a whim. Not caring one bit to lose a little bit of money to his house elves for the grater good.

Truth be told, he had needed her hard after the war.

To reestablish the Malfoy name, he had needed to work together with someone that had been on the winning side of the war. Someone society trusted. That Hermione was also a war heroine, the brains of the Golden trio – and thus friends with Harry Potter - _and_ a muggle-born witch were added bonuses.

Still, he could've chosen someone else. Someone who was less stubborn and less of a moral compass. Someone who didn't glare at him like she wanted to pull out his fingernails and stick them in his eyeballs while setting his hair on fire. Someone who didn't laugh like she'd just chopped of his balls and fed them to the dragons. Someone more agreeable and fun to work with. Someone entirely different.

But he hadn't.

Because truth be told, she was fucking brilliant. Although he'd rather die than admit that out loud to her.

But it was true. She truly was the brightest witch of their age, even if she hated the nickname. Having her around pushed him just that bit harder to be better. To think bigger and bolder and get things done faster and more efficiently. They complimented each other: both came from such different worlds and such different perspectives… If they wanted to build up a world were everyone was accepted and respected, they needed to rebuild with both mindsets in it.

The old, the new.  
The rich, the poor.  
The Slytherin, the Gryffindor.  
The pureblood, the muggle-born.  
The Death Eater, the war heroine.  
The loser, the winner.

… You get the picture.

For all her flaws, Granger was a brilliant and practical girl. She had understood what had needed to be done, and even if she hadn't been particularly thrilled about working together, she had complied with a minimum of conditions.

And so they had… For the past _six_ years. And in those six years they had long since rebuilt the city into a better one than ever before. They could easily stop their close cooperation by now: Their initial plan had been accomplished beyond expectation and yet… neither seemed inclined to leave the other now.

 _War changes people and their perspectives_ …

Theirs certainly had.

He had struggled morning his parents whom – despite everything – he loved, while the rest of the world hated them. He had wanted to hate them. That's for sure.

He had wanted to hate them for making his life so hard, for destroying the Malfoy name and for making it so hard to respect them when they'd been so wrong about the world all along.

He had wanted to hate them because they had forced him to play a role in a war that hadn't been his to fight. He wanted to hate them for taking away his choice in taking sides, no, he just got the Dark side shoved into his arms because his parents had opened their doors to the Dark Lord himself.

He had wanted to hate them. He truly really did.

But no matter how much he tried, he had been only able to hate that he couldn't hate them like everyone else did. He'd started resenting himself and the fact that there wasn't one person in his life to share his sorrows and regrets with.

But then there had been Granger.

Too much of a goody-good Gryffindor, she had of course offered him a shoulder to cry on. A shoulder he had been craving.

And in return… He had treated her absolutely terribly. He fell back into his old habits of calling her names and humiliating her with every chance he got as long as it wouldn't damage their perfect picture of professionalism. He had hoped his actions would push her way from him on the emotional part – back to straight business partners – so he could lick his wounds in private.

He had wanted her gone because her compassion only reminded him of what an awful person he was, because her sympathy only emphasized all his mistakes in life and because her forgiveness only told him how much he did not deserve it. But mostly he wanted her gone because she was the only one that brought out that one horrible emotion no one had ever managed to bring out in him.

Guilt.

And he had utterly despised the feeling with such a burning passion he had felt he might die of it.

And thus, he'd been awful to her even more.  
And she… She had seen right through the act and fucking stayed.

That was 4 years ago now but since then his renewed hostility had long since died out into empty treats. They still fought. _A lot_. But somehow they both knew that the mean things said were always in jest, like a banter of some sort. But more severe. He loved to see her riled up, the commanding magic radiating off of her in fair warning, leaving bystanders in no doubt about her power.

It was her eyes really… Those big bold sparkling orbs always managed to steal all the attention in the room. They were dark brown, almost black, with flecks of auburn and spots of gold and if enraged, the auburn glow would get more pronounced, making it look like she truly was on fire, shooting daggers of fire at whomever crossed her wrong.

It was magnificent to watch… and slightly terrifying.

Not that that would stop him from infuriating her. It was simply something too beautiful to see.

And fun to do.

So, yes, they still had heated fights all the time. They pushed each other's buttons, got angry, insulted and hurt one another. But they would always laugh about it later. They would always forgive each other…

But now…? He wasn't so sure.

 _Fuck, what have I done?_ Draco thought bitterly, his chest aching with regret while he continued his search for her.

Five minutes earlier

"Damn! Golden-girl looks…" Theo started, his eyes glued to the door the girl in question just disappeared into the hallway. She had just come back from a night out with Ginny and to pass the time of loneliness in his big mansion, Draco had invited his friends Theodor Nott and Blaise Zabini over.

"Careful." Malfoy barked, earning himself an eyeroll from Theo and a grin from Blaise.

"I'm just saying." Theo shrugged. "You're living with her what now?"

"3 months."

"Exactly. Don't tell me you haven't wanted to f…"'

"Language." Draco stated bored.

" _Tap_ that."

Of course he had. He had wanted her for so, _so_ long. He had wanted to get a taste of her ever since they first started working together 6 years ago, his mind always finding ways to involve her in his fantasies whenever his right hand and shaft reacquainted.

Don't get him wrong: Granger had never been ugly before those six years. But during their time at Hogwarts she had still been a child who needed to grow into her looks. Back then her hair was a mess, her figure hidden beneath the oversized school uniform and her pouty lips stood a bit duck-ish, especially when she pursed them in disdain at him.

Then, in the last two years of Hogwarts, when she had been clearly growing into her looks, the war had come between them. He had noticed it, for sure, but when lives are at stake and Voldemort walks around your house like he owns the place, sex isn't really the first thing on your mind. Even when you are a teenage boy.

But then, six years ago, they reacquainted. She didn't make a fuss about his name or background story – something about _not_ being a prejudiced fucker like purebloods were – and she had miraculously decided to work with him.

It was only then that he had noticed the slight yet significant changes in her appearance.

Her hair had still been untamable and wild, yet now it gave her some sort of minxy look that made his trousers shrink six sizes on instant. Her lips were still pouty but no longer looked out of place, instead being the most full and luscious lips he'd ever seen, making him want to bite and nibble them until his name would roll of her tongue in pure bliss. She now also chose her own outfits, something she turned out to be incredibly good at now she finally had the money to buy decent clothes. Her attires somehow always managed to show off her killer hourglass figure, leaving no doubt about the generous sizes of her assets without putting them on display – she was still Granger after all. Yes, her outfits were always graceful and classy, yet remaining practical all the same.

Simply put, she was basically the walking wet dream for every man that breathed.

But unlike Theo was suggesting, Granger wasn't one of his meaningless hookups. She had more class, more humor, more intellect and – yes, truly – more beauty than any of those sluts he'd bedded would ever have put together.

Granger truly had the world to offer while Draco could only take, and although he usually didn't mind that, with her, it bothered him severely.

She deserved so, _so_ much more than him, and yet… unbeknownst to his friends, he'd had her.

For every night for the past eight weeks to be exact.

Eight weeks ago, they had been celebrating that a law they had set up and proposed to the Ministry had passed first round of voting…

 _Flashback_

 _"I still can't believe it!" Granger beamed, walking in with the second bottle of champagne. "It actually passed! I'm so happy! I'm so glad those kids…" Her voice broke as she sat down next to him and Draco's head snapped towards her to see what was wrong._

 _He found watery eyes and a big bright smile, showing off two neat little rows of perfect white teeth. Granger did her best to blink away her tears of happiness, but it was to no avail._

 _Watching a single teardrop roll down her cheek, over her throat and chest only to almost see it disappear into her dress - right where it showed a hint of décolleté - was his undoing. Before he knew what was happening, his finger was on the soft flesh of her rising and falling breast to catch the drop before it disappeared forever._

 _Granger's breath picked up and he tore his eyes away from her heaving chest only to look up into her dark sparkling eyes. Her eyes were wide, surprised, but her mouth was parted, inviting._

 _And then it happened all at once._

 _Lips pressed together, teeth clashed. Hands were desperate for touch as was the rest of their bodies. The champagne bottle she'd been holding fell hopelessly onto the carpet. Had it already been open? Neither did care to look as their tongues battled for dominance, both hungrily trying to tell the other how much they wanted the other. Needed the other. Craved the other._

 _Draco's one hand was cupping her cheek lovingly, while his other was moving up her dress. Granger was quick to fall backwards on the couch, pulling Draco with her and on top of her, her fingernails frantically grasping the bare skin of his back, leaving claw marks as she did._

 _He loved it._

 _When his fingers found the waistband of her panties, he slowly pressed onto the silky material between her legs before starting slow circular movements._

 _"Draco." She gasped inside his mouth._

 _It was the first time she had used his first name. Ever._

 _Draco broke the kiss as his fingers continued their ministrations and he watched how her head fell back onto the couch in pure bliss, her eyes closed as his other hand was still lovingly cupping her face._

 _Her creamy neck was calling out to him, desperate for him to take a taste, but he also wanted to keep watching her, loving the way how she whimpered and clung onto him._

 _Eventually, her neck turned out to be too irresistible. Diving in he kissed the soft spots of her neck and throat, sometimes biting it before kissing it again to ease the sting. She was fully moaning now and her back arched so her breasts were stuck out to him… if not for that damn dress._

 _Her hands grasped his hair, pulling him closer into her neck, desperately wanting more._

 _And so he gave more._

 _His fingers pushed the silky material of her underwear aside only to find her soaking wet and he couldn't help the grin on his face as he was still kissing her neck._

 _Apparently feeling his grin, Granger huffed. "Oh, shut up." She scolded hoarsely. "Like you're one to talk." And she pressed her leg upwards, finding his crotch and rubbing over his unmistakably hard-on._

 _Within the second, two fingers pushed inside of her, causing her to moan his name in ecstasy, while his other hand released her face to dive into her dress on the other side and cup one of her generous breasts. Retracting his mouth from her throat he looked upon the vision she was: Whimpering, moaning and whirling underneath him as his fingers moved in and out of her heat skillfully. Her hands clutched to every piece of skin her nails could reach and he could feel her building._

 _"Granger, darling, look at me." He ordered as her walls tightened around him._

 _Her eyes opened, locking on his and they instantly bewitched him: Black and gold were the only two colors he now saw. Dark passion, lust and want mingled with golden magnificence, ecstasy and bliss._

 _"Draco." She breathed before biting her juicy bottom lip, her eyes never leaving his as he found her G-spot and twitched one of her nipples at the same time._

 _She came, loudly moaning his name, only taking about ten seconds to rest before her hands started frantically working on his belt._

 _End of flashback._

Saying that he wanted her was an understatement by now. He had had her. Countless of times. Wanting was not the right description anymore for his cravings. He desperately needed her. At any day, bad or good, he came home hoping she'd be already there as well. Either to make up for his horrible day or to make it even better.

It wasn't even about sex anymore either. Yes, it was mind-blowing and by far the best sex he'd ever had and yes, they did it every day at least once, but it seriously was about more than that.

He loved to watch her cook the muggle way, for example. Her hair would be done up into some bun or ponytail and she would wear some weird piece of fabric around her neck. She would sing or hum some lovely song he didn't know and would somehow always manage to wipe her brow when her hand was dirty, causing flower or something else to stick on her forehead.

Draco found it utterly adorable.

Not to mention her muggle food was ridiculously delicious.

But these were no themes he could discuss with his friends. Even though all pureblood families had pledged not to participate into blood-purity believes, old habits die hard and his friends' families, especially Theo's, still believed themselves superior to the rest.

Theo might act friendly to Granger's face – for the sake of being accepted in society – and talk about the idea of fucking her, but it would be exactly that. Fucking. As in taking control like a superior might do with a slave or whore. Rough. Hard-handed. Without any form of respect.

Blaise had never truly believed in blood-purity to begin with, and he also seemed suspicious of what was going on between Draco and Granger, but Theo was a completely different story.

Draco and Theo always had had a bit of a competitive friendship. What one wanted, the other would surely try to steal away.

"Don't be ridiculous, Theo." He snorted. "She's the last person I would bed."

"Yes, why was she living with you again?" Blaise asked, brows furrowed. "Mom asked about it the other night but you never told us why, did you?"

"Weasel kept breaking the restraining order and practically lived on her doorstep, knowing full well that Granger didn't have it in her to really press charges against her old-time friend and ex. She's just living here until she finds another flat… One that's _Weasel-proof_." Draco snarled the last bit bitterly. He had been so close to smashing that Weasel's noggin head into some brick wall on a number of occasions for the past three years he and Granger had broken up – and to be honest the three years before that too: the way that scumbag treated Granger was just too abominable.

No _man_ who claimed to love a woman would treat her that way.

Then again, he'd never thought of the Weasel as a man.

"Even after three years after their engagement got broken off? You've got to give the guy some credits for being persistent… Well, that _and_ a creep." Theo grinned, his eyes glancing towards the ceiling, probably imagining her walking there. "At least we now know she's a good shag."

"Please, Weasel wouldn't recognize a good shag when he's having one." Draco spat, not liking this picture in his head of Granger and Weasel together.

"Since you're not going to take her… Mind if I do?" Theo asked in all seriousness, making Blaise choke on his wine. "Weasel is probably small too, so he didn't stretch and ruin her. I bet she's tight… like a virgin."

"Theo…" He tried to warn his friend who was oblivious to the fueling anger of Draco, whose knuckles turned white as he grabbed the armrests of his chair.

"No, I'm serious! If you guys want to be blind, be my guest, but I can see that the Gryffindor-princess isn't half that bad. Small waist, big butt. In fact with her tits…"

"Not half that bad?" Draco barked out a laugh. "She's fucking hideous mate. I know you've been out of the game for a while but to become so desperate to want the know-it-all Gryffindor of all _things_? If you want to shag _that_ , be my guest, but don't say I haven't warned you there's a fucking Sahara between her legs that will scour your dick off. Stick in your meat and vultures will come for it. Not to mention how her boring facts will deprive you from all lust involved." Draco chuckled meanly.

"Surely, you don't mean that. You work _and_ live with her! Something must be good." Blaise widened his eyes at him. _What the fuck, Blaise?!_ He knew how Theo was. The more Theo was repulsed the better.

"Of course I mean that! I'm a Malfoy, a man of my word."

"Touchy subject Malfoy?" Theo grinned and Draco casted him a dark look. "You live with the girl, work with the girl. Hell, I even saw you flirt with the girl. Afraid I'll steal your precious prize?"

Draco scoffed and barked out a humorless laugh. "Please. I flirt with the girl so she'll do all my bloody paperwork because – yes – she is reasonably smart enough for the task, the ugly ones always are. But that doesn't take away the fact that she is irritating and boring as fuck."

"Draco." Blaise tried to interrupt. But Draco would have none of it. "No, Blaise, fuck off. This is important." Draco waved him away and refocused his attention to Theo again. "You needs to understand that I don't have a family anymore that would _disown_ me if I would ever decide to put my cock inside of her, _you do_. So, for once stop thinking with your dick and start caring about the shame you'll cast upon your family if you sully your hands with that _mudblood_." For a moment, Draco was proud at how cold and disgusted he had sounded. If this wouldn't keep Theo from pursuing her, he didn't know what would.

But his smugness quickly died when he heard her soft voice from behind them.

"Glad to know your point of view then."

His face snapped to the sound within the second, his eyes wide in fear for her expected onslaught. Instead he found the room already empty and he heard quick footsteps running up the stairs.

Back to present

"Granger, I know you're here somewhere! Just let me explain!" Draco yelled again, the desperation clear in his voice. When no answer came, he redirected his anger on himself to Morty.

"I give you one second to tell me where she is or you're fired." He hissed venomously.

"She left! She left!" Morty panicked, sobbing into his hands. "Miss Granger left."

Draco stormed to Granger's bedroom. She hadn't slept in her guestroom for eight weeks, seeing they'd always preferred sleeping together in his room ever since, but her clothes had still been stored there. Stalking into her walk-in closet, his last bit of hope vanished.

Clothes were scattered all around, bags were missing: She'd left in a hurry.

A hurry of exactly 1 whole minute.

Draco fell down on his knees, taking a forgotten T-shirt in his hands and started to cry soundlessly.

The one truly good thing in his life had just walked out on him… He had hurt her one time too many. Disregarded her pride one time too often.

What the fuck had he done?

Two weeks later

"Yes, I _know_ that Ginny." Draco sighed at the redhead's rant, ducking away from another object she threw his way. For a professional quidditch player she seriously sucked at throwing. "But if you knew Theo you w – "

"No _buts_! All through Hogwarts you've taunted her and made her lose a part of her self-respect and self-worth. You've watched and did nothing as your aunt tortured her inside your own fucking house and her eyes turned to you, begging for help! Than she testified on your behalf, against all odds, making sure you wouldn't be sent off to Azkaban when the Dark Lord had finally been defeated! Then you had the nerve to ask her to work with you which she somehow fucking _did_?! You've worked together for six years and all you guys did was fight and bicker but it somehow managed to turn into friendship and then into sex and now this?!"

If Draco wouldn't have been as ashamed with himself as he was, he would've made fun of the fact that the Weaselette's face currently had the same color as her hair, but he couldn't. Not now.

"Ginny, please. I know I royally fucked up. I did. I do." Draco hated how weak his voice sounded, but after two weeks and still no sign of Granger, he had no room left to care. All his pride had shattered along with his now very much shattered heart, no matter how dramatic that made him sound. No, all he felt was loneliness and guilt, and not particularly in that order. "I fucked up. But I promise I didn't mean what I said. I was just trying to get Nott off her back, trying to repulse him so he might leave her alone."

Ginny snorted and remained silent, her stare burning a whole through his head. She was probably hoping he'd drop dead right that second.

Somewhere, he did too.

But not before he apologized to Granger.

"I love her." He whispered. It was the first time he had ever uttered the words out loud and Ginny gasped at them. "I really do." He confirmed at her disbelieving gaze.

For a moment, Ginny continued her stare of utter shock before her gaze softened and a tiny smile broke on her face.

"She thought you did." Ginny smiled reluctantly. "Even though you had never told her one single nice thing in her life, she thought you did. Even though I told her time and again that she was imagining things, she believed it firmly. It had something to do with your eyes." Ginny waved her hand dismissively in his direction, rolling her eyes.

Draco's throat tightened on instant and it became hard to breath.

"Why are you talking in the past?"

"She's gone, Malfoy." Ginny sighed. "She came to me two weeks ago, bags in her hands and tears streaming over her face. She was in such a hurry she didn't even want to tell me what had happened, only that she was leaving and would get in touch once things settled down a bit."

"What?! Why didn't you stop her?!" Draco accused.

"Because I'm her friend! I'm here to support her through all of her decisions, not to make them for her. If she makes a mistake that's on her. I'm just there to be there for her whenever she needs me to be!"

"A real friend would've stopped her! She was out of her wits! Nobody can make decisions like that in a rash!"

"She's my _friend_ , Malfoy, not my _puppet_! I know the concept of 'not owning' something is a bit foreign to you but I'm not her boss, mother or babysitter. I'm her _friend_. And if you know Hermione even in the slightest you would know that once she sets her mind to something nothing will stop her from achieving that goal!"

Draco's shoulders slumped. "Can you at least tell me where she's gone?"

"I think the point was that she wanted to get away from you." Ginny sad flatly, obviously still pissed off and rightly so.

"I know. But I love her."

Ginny scoffed. "If you love her, you wouldn't treat her the way you do. God, you're just as bad as that stupid pig I call a brother."

"I'm nothing like that Weasel." Draco spat in disgust. "Granger and I had fights, but we enjoyed them too. She offended me too! That's what we did. We challenged each other! She usually shrugged it off, because she has a fucking two-second rebound rate, just like me. I never lied to her the way your brother did. I never hit her! I never cheated on her!"

Ginny blinked and Draco swore he could hear her whisper 'Ron hit her?' in shock, but before he could reply Ginny continued. "You can't really cheat when there are never rules spoken out loud, can you?" Ginny told him flatly. "You two had sex. Casual sex. And she tried to read into it because that's how Hermione is. She tries to see the best in people without any evidence there is any. You never gave her any kind of reason to believe what she did. You never gave her any hope. Any silver lining. She wanted it to be more than sex, but after hearing you say what you said, I think she finally decided to listen to me."

"But you were wrong!"

"I know that now! After you come knocking on my front door after it took you _two whole weeks_ to come here!"

"I was hoping she'd come home."

"Home? Home to what? A house she'd been tortured in? To a guy she's been working with for six years and still refused to call her Hermione? To a guy that made her feel safe and protected regardless of his nasty sneers, but then she hears him laugh and joke with his friends about how she's worth as much as a sex slave? Yes. _Homey,_ Malfoy. She would _definitely_ want to come home to that."

"I'm such an idiot." Draco muttered defeated.

"Finally. Something sensible." She deadpanned humorless.

Draco didn't respond but sat down on the couch defeatedly.

"Yes, please, _do_ make yourself feel right at home." Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes. At the lack of response coming from Draco however, she took in his crestfallen demeanor.

"I don't deserve her, Ginny. I know that. But I at least want to tell her how sorry I am. I want to apologize and I will respect her decision if she doesn't want to forgive me, but I need to know I did everything in my power to keep her. So, please, I'm begging you. Tell me where she went."

"She didn't tell me where she went." Ginny reluctantly told him and Draco's eyes snapped to hers. "I would help you if I could but I don't know anything either." Ginny grinned humorlessly, summoning a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses from the kitchen.

"Here." She said, putting a full glass in front of him while taking a seat next to him.

In silence they watched the fire flicker in the fireplace, both individually being reminded of Hermione's eyes.

Well, _fuck._

What in Merlin's name had he done?


	2. Chapter 2: Draco's Second Chance

**Alright! So glad that you guys like it!  
It was my first HP fanfic, so I wasn't sure, b** **ut since you guys liked it, I decided to continue the story.** **This chapter, however, is slightly different build-up because I wanted to give you guys some more background information before the storyline continues. If this is less to your taste than the first chapter, please bare with me, the following chapters will be more like that again.**

 **If the _Flashback in_ _Italics_ bother you, please let me know so I can change it. Usually I think it's clearer when flashbacks are in _Italic_ but since there's a lot of flashbacks in this chapter I would understand if it became a bit troublesome to read.**

 **Also, I'm not a native, so please forgive me for my grammar and spelling mistakes.**

 **Please, please review! It always gives me a boost to write.**

 **Love to all of you & enjoy.**

 **DPOV**

Draco was a changed man.

Well, for the most part he was still the same: He still worked his ass off around the clock, he still prided himself on his family name, he still loved his luxury and tended to be arrogant, sadistic, snobbish and ill-tempered.

So far, so good. Or at least, familiar.

What was different however, were the people he surrounded himself with. Ever since Hermione had been coming to live with him, slutty hookups had already been out of the picture, but even after she'd left – 4 months ago - he hadn't wanted them back either. Moreover he had cut off his friendship with Theodore Nott, although Blaise was still in the picture. He now actually hang out a lot with Ginny and – yes, shocking as it might be – her pathetic excuse of a boyfriend Scarface. _No_ , they did _not_ get along, but for the sake of their friendship – or in Harry's case relationship – with Ginny, they had somehow come to the unspoken yet mutual agreement not to bicker whenever she was around.

It was a work in process really.

But could you blame him? Before Hermione had disappeared on him, he had barely even seen either of them at all. Although… Admittedly, that had been his own fault, seeing how he had made it a rule for Hermione not to have her Gryffindor friends in his house.

 _Flashback: 7 months ago_

 _"First condition: Scarface and his Weaselette - or any other Gryffindor for that matter - are under no circumstances to enter my house. EVER."_

 _Hermione merely nodded, making Draco doubt if she even heard it at all. He had expected her to at least fight his requests._

 _"I said… Scarface and his wea-"_

 _"I heard you the first time, Malfoy. Loud and clear. Moving on, what's the second condition?"_

 _Draco blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. That just went way too easy. He had had suspicions that Granger had slightly drifted apart with Potter ever since her breakup with the Weasel, but he knew she was still good friends with the Weasellete. So why agree so fast? Draco eyed her warily but decided not to question it any further for now._

 _Fine then. He'd find out later._

 _Moving on._

 _"Second rule: All muggle things are strictly forbidden in the common rooms. You can stuff your bedroom and private bathroom full of them for all I care but I don't want to spot anything muggle lying around anywhere else. Understood?" To be fair, this rule was solely made up to enrage her and man, she did not disappoint._

 _Hermione's eyes became large and wide, filled with a fuming defiance. As customary, her hands flew to her hips, probably thinking it made her look more menacing while in reality, considering her height, it made her look like a petulant toddler. A cute one at that._

 _"That's ridiculous Malfoy, and you know it!" She told him insolently. "You're wearing muggle clothes yourself right now for Merlin's sake!"_

 _She had a point._

 _In fact, he didn't hate muggle stuff at all anymore. He actually was highly impressed by some of their little handyworks and she knew that. Or well, she suspected as much because he would of course never openly come out for it… Although the fact that he had enthusiastically incorporated muggle inventions into the Wizard World for the past 2 years was pretty telling of his tolerance._

 _Still, it was fun to rile her up._

 _"I happen to like their clothes at unformal times, yes. I'm not all anti-Muggle anymore, Granger, as you well know. Otherwise you wouldn't have been standing here in my living room right this moment."_

 _He gestured his hand at her feet dismissively, loving how the hands on her hips were just shaking with bottled up anger._

 _He couldn't help but smirk as Grangers eyes turned wide as saucers. Then she did something that made him know he had hit jackpot. She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. She was going in attack and he couldn't help but feel trilled because of it._

 _"Well, sucks to be you then, Malfoy, because –"_

 _He had no idea what she was planning on saying, but if there was one thing he did know from his twelve years' experience of arguing with a riled up Hermione Granger, it was that if he would let her finish that sentence, he would stand no chance on winning the argument. Not when she was passionate about the subject up for discussion._

 _Draco had always enjoyed their little tête-à-têtes. Her sharp mind and quick wit easily matched his own, if not exceeded it. Back at Hogwarts, their spiteful banters had been the only form of intellectual conversation he had been able to have with peers, apart from maybe Blaise. But yeah, apart from Blaise and Granger he had had only adults to interact with on his own level of intellect, so Granger – whether she knew it or not – was a big part of his happier childhood memories._

 _Even if he had hated her back in the day._

 _"Because what?" He cut off. "It's bad enough that you're going to live under the same roof as me for a while, the least you can do is let me pretend that isn't the case."_

 _"You want to pretend what?!" She hissed, glaring murderously at him. Ah! There was the real raging fire in her eyes at last._

 _He really hoped she would stomp her feet next, that was always fun to watch._

 _"Yes, Granger. The Malfoy Manor is a big mansion, you know. We can easily avoid each other and disregard each other's existence. But if you were to leave behind little tokens of you staying here, say those little muggle pens of yours, pretending will become a whole lot more difficult for me."_

 _It looked like she wanted to yell, but impressively enough she seemed to refrain herself from doing so. Instead her voice turned cold and detached._

 _"You're joking." She deadpanned, only half-believing her own statement._

 _"I like muggle things but only on particular times, Granger. I chose when and where I surround myself with anything muggle, so I do not want my house stuffed full of it just any time given, understood? If I want to enjoy it, I'll go to the muggles or work, but I refuse to let the muggles come to me."_

 _"You're joking." She stated again, this time it came out in a hiss though._

 _When he made a point to clean his fingernails and shrugging casually, he saw her mouth drop open in disbelieve and it took him all he had to refrain from laughing._

 _"Malfoy, you're… you're… Uhrgggg!" She roared in frustration, stomping her feet._

 _Oh yes, baby! Scoreeeee._

 _"I'm what? Surely 'urrr' is not the vocabular of the brightest witch of our age."_

 _"Malfoy!" She snapped. "You're a fucking idiot if you think for one second that–"_

 _"Now, that's no way to express gratitude to your new landlord." Draco gauged, successfully cutting her off again. His signature smirk in place._

 _Her eyes threw him daggers and she opened her mouth to retort but no sound came out. Instead she threw up her hands in utter despair at his unreasonableness. Growling again._

 _The the vase on the glass table started jingling ever so lightly, the art on the walls moved._

 _Draco barely noticed though. With a flustered face like that and the matching glare that came with it, Draco wanted nothing more than to kiss those pouty lips raw. Meeting his lustful gaze, however, her blush became more prominent before she crossed her arms protectively in front of her body as she hopped down onto one of the sofa's._

 _Malfoy thought he'd won the war, but it turned out to be just a battle._

 _"Too bad, Malfoy. I'm coming to you with all my pots and pans and other disgusting muggle stuff." Her eyes flicked around the room before settling on him with. "And you are gonna love it." The evil grin playing on her lips was both disturbing and enchanting and he found himself too entirely distracted by them to form a retort._

 _And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. Apparated away, probably to pack all of her stupid muggle stuff._

 _And somehow he felt oddly excited for that._

 _End of Flashback_

Hermione had not been seen or heard off in 4 months' time and in that time, Draco had hired a lot of private investigators to find her but all had come back empty-handed so far. If he were to believe their professional advice, it was an impossible goose hunt to try to out-smart the brightest witch of their age when she obviously didn't want to be found.

He couldn't care less about their 'advise'.

It was all a bunch of utter bullocks if you'd ask Draco.

It wasn't until very recently, when the seventh private investigator had refused to look for her any longer - saying it would be a waist of his time and talent with already six men working on the case - Draco had found out how little he actually knew about Granger.

Yes, he knew enough about her to know what kind of person she was: Annoying, stubborn, snobbish, brave, fierce, kind, forgiving, loyal… You name it.

He knew her character awfully well. After six years of working together, developing some semi kind of friendship _and_ feelings of… uh, something more, he could read her moods perfectly. He could also predict how long it would take her to forgive him after a fight, he knew how she liked her coffee – black – and what her favorite food was – although the latter depended on her mood.

When she was angry for example, she needed meat. The angrier, the bloodier. Beef or steak would be excellent when fuming.  
When she was feeling neutral or happy, anything Mediterranean – especially Italian – would do. Pasta, pizza, couscous, tajine and all those other funny little Muggle dishes. Draco always figured this was her 'true' favorite food.  
When she was nervous or fidgety for some upcoming event: Salads, fish, low-carbs. Very healthy.  
And when she was celebrating _or_ \- as he had found out in the last few months she lived with him - on her period, she ate about as unhealthy as she could get: Fast food, cake, chocolate.

But when she was sad… When she was sad she barely ate at all.

He hoped she had been eating well for the past months.

Either way, the fact remained that apart from all those useless little details, he didn't know anything that would help him find her. He didn't understand. They both knew each other so well – or so he had thought – and yet he hardly knew her at all.

How did that happen?

He knew for a fact that she knew about most – if not all – of _his_ struggles. Her poking and prodding into his personal life had made it next to impossible not to, even though he had always tried to scold her away. But the other way around? He'd simply never shown any interest in her personal life, unless he had something to win by it. Like the time he pushed her to break up with the Weasel.

 _Flashback: 3 years ago_

 _Draco was in a pissed off mood._

 _Like, more than his usual._

 _F_ _or he had seen flowers being carried into the building today. Now, he didn't hate flowers, not in the slightest and even though the bouquet was nothing spectacularly pretty, he would've normally enjoyed some freshly cut flowers in the building as their scent would lighten up the dull odor in the hallways._

 _Normally he would like it.  
Normally, but not today._

 _Because he knew who the recipient of the flowers would be: Hermione Jean Granger._

 _Which meant at least two things that bothered him: One. She still hadn't broken up with that moron of a boyfriend Weasel. Two. The Weasel had fucked something up… yet again._

 _He had stopped himself from going into her office all day. Whatever it was Weasel had done, he would not make her life more miserable today with his own repressed annoyance at the twat. Although he didn't know the specifics, he knew she had had a shit week and for once he decided not to taunt her for it._ _Or at least, that had been his plan all day, until he apparated into his office about 8pm that night to pick up some forgotten file from his desk he had planned on studying that night and saw that the light in Granger's office was still on too._

 _Not even bothering to knock he opened the door and slipped into her office._

 _She was seated at her desk and made no apparent indication that she heard him enter the room. He decided to watch her for a while, just because he could. She had blossomed quite pretty in the past years. He daresay even beautiful, you know, if her face wasn't forced into a scowl directed at him when they argued._

 _Today however, she had put in that extra bit more effort._

 _"Granger wearing make-up… Now would you look at that." Draco drawled bored, deciding to make his presence known."Trying to impress someone? A date perhaps?" He eyed the fresh flowers on the corner of her desk and walked towards them, reading the note attached to the bouquet._

 _"Sorry. Pick you up from work at 7."_

 _Draco snorted. "Touching." He drawled sarcastically. "I must confess, Granger, those are a lot of words for a Weasel. Had no idea he could write at all."_

 _Hermione stood up and walked over to him, picking up the flowers from the vase before dumping them in the trash._

 _"They're not from Ronald." It was a lie and he knew it. He also knew she knew he knew._

 _"What?" His eyebrows shot up. "There's another 'biggest idiot in the world' out there?" He quipped. "Who's the sad excuse of a lunatic?" He knew she would think he'd offended her, she always did and he always let her. She would think he called them idiots for dating her, 'a mudblood', while in truth he thought any idiot who would pass up spending time with Hermione for something else really was an imbecile._

 _He got no reply, but he could tell he was getting under her skin. Good, he loved her riled up._

 _"Well, at least it's an improvement from Weasel. This one actually came to his senses before the date even started. Tell me, how does it feel being stood up? I literally have no idea."_

 _"Who says I've been stood up?" She bit back, way too fast to be casual._

 _Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Get that mind of yours out of the gutter, Granger. It's 8 o'clock: an hour after you should've been picked up and yet here you are." Draco gestured his hand dismissively at the Chinese takeout box on her desk. "Eating takeout. Not to mention you've just stuffed some lovely fresh roses into your garbage bin. It's no hard math to do, hon." He shook his head and added as an afterthought: "Except maybe for Weasel. Why did you date that braindead tosser again?"_

 _"Didn't know you cared, Malfoy."_

 _"I don't but your annoying weeping sounds and the disgusting sniffs are making it my business. It's depressing, really, and also considerably pathetic knowing that the so called 'brightest witch our age' has been stood up, yet again. I simply can't work in a sad atmosphere like that! I have pride to uphold."_

 _"Excuse me?" She scoffed. "First of all, it's 8pm. Go home." He couldn't help but stare at the way her juicy lips came together in a kiss-like movement at that last word. "Secondly, do you see tears streaming down my face? Are my eyes watery and is my nose red? No. Because I'm not fucking crying, Malfoy! So shove your stupid comments up your ass and get out of my office! I'm not in the mood!" _

_When he made no move to leave she ranted again._

 _"Are you even listening?!" She accused. Unintentionally, small objects in her room started to jingle as a wind seemed to emerge out of nowhere. This always happened when she got angry._

 _"Not a word." Liar, liar pants on fire. But she didn't need to know that. This was way more fun._

 _She was furious. Well good. God knew how much that woman needed to unleash, she just had the wrong person in front of her. Slightly intimidated by the murderous glare she was giving him he put up his hands in the air defensively. "He! Don't kill the messenger! I'm just an honest man only stating some facts. Enlightening the world, so to speak."_

 _Hermione, aware of her moving surroundings, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her angry magic down. "There is so much wrong with that sentence I don't even know where to start." She sighed. "First of all, Malfoy, you're no man, you're a git. And just because you feel the need to always 'honestly' showcase all of your poorly thought trough emotions and opinions, doesn't make you right or smart, it only makes you bloody annoying. Now if you will excuse me…" She gestured to the door, ordering him to leave… again._

 _Seriously, why did she still even bother to 'ask' or order anything? It was not as if he was about to do as she told just because she told him a second time. She should know that by now._

 _When she reached for her want though, probably to hex him out, something in Draco snapped. Why was he always the one getting the short end of the stick? Why couldn't she lash out at the ones that truly hurt her lately?!_

 _He couldn't stand it any longer. She needed to understand. All these past months if not years he had hold back. He knew he didn't deserve her in the slightest way possible, not as a college, not as a friend and certainly not as a lover, but neither did those tossers she called friends! At least he would never make her as miserable as Weasel currently did. At least Draco had still an upbringing that didn't involve standing up girls._

 _Weasel did deserve her even less than he did! And Scarface was just a wanker._

 _"You should dump them." He spat._

 _"Them?" She scoffed, slightly amused. "And exactly how many boyfriends do you think I have, Malfoy?"_

 _"Your boytoys Scarface and Weasel. They are not worth your time, Granger. Seriously when are you going to use that brilliant brain of yours to realize you're better off without them?"_

 _Her eyes widened at the compliment briefly, before she composed herself. She said nothing but looked up at him through those ridiculously long eyelashes of hers, her big bold sparkling orbs a source of secrets and unreadable emotions. God he would easily give up his entire Malfoy fortune to know what she was thinking._

 _Her silence drove him mad. She was rarely silent and thus he continued in a rant, trying to fill up the empty feeling of said silence to distract him from his own nerves._

 _"Weasel is a brainless idiot. Period." At that statement Hermione had to smile a little. "What could he possibly give to you if not a challenging and intelligent conversation? Is it love? Respect? Kindness? Support? Compassion? Yes, I dare say he's doing a spectacular job in those departments." He spat sarcastically. "Hell, I think the boy has let you cry more often than I did back at Hogwarts. Jesus, Granger, I can't imagine the sex good enough to make up for even one of his flaws, let alone all of them."_

 _Granger bit her lip, trying to stifle her reluctant laughter. It would be a bitter laugh, Draco could tell. Her eyes were blinking rapidly, desperate to force the approaching tears away. Her silence still had him continuing._

 _"You know how I know that? Because he's a taker, Granger, not a giver. Just like Potter." He spat the name. "Both of those boys are nothing but ungrateful friends! Without your help they both would've died a long, long time ago. You kept them alive for years with your endless knowledge and ridiculously prominent sense of righteousness. Do you not think I noticed that? How you did their homework for them and saved their lives time and again back then? And do you honestly think I didn't notice how the Weasel hurt your feelings, also time and again, disregarding all of your needs? And where was your good friend Potter then, when you needed him? When has he ever stood up against Ron on your behalf? When has either of them ever gone out of their way to do anything for you? Supported you to achieve your goals? Made the effort to do something that would make you happy?"_

 _Hermione was silent, eyes downcast on the papers on her desk in front of her, refusing to answer because they both knew the answer to be a bitter truth._

 _He walked around the desk and crouched down next to her, taking her chin in between his fingers and forcing her to look at him._

 _In a gentle voice: "They took advantage of your kindness, Granger. You are so willing to give but when did you ever get anything in return? Aren't you tired of it? Aren't you empty by now? Do you not – for once – want to get?"_

 _She swallowed and nodded her head demurely, her eyes shining with unshed tears._

 _For a second her eyes flicked to his mouth briefly, her head inching closer unconsciously yet prominently so. Just before their lips touched she looked him straight in the eye._

 _"But you've never done anything kind for me either." There was no accusation in her voice, only uncertainty. A shyness of some sorts, desperate to protect herself from more pain._

 _She pulled herself away from him._

 _He took the hint and headed for the door. In the door opening, however, he wavered slightly. "But I never claimed to be your friend either." He breathed softly. He didn't dare to look back at her facial expression._

 _"Indeed, you didn't." He could hear the small smile in her voice._

 _"Don't let them mistake your kindness for weakness, Granger, you're far too brilliant for that." And with those words he apparated back home._

 _End of flashback_

If only he had understood then that there was _always_ a win in getting to know Granger.

Of all the girls he'd met, she was by far the realest in every aspect. She would _always_ tell him what she thought of things, whether he cared for her opinions or not. She would press her points, try to convince him, she would laugh at him when he was being ridiculous, smile when he was being something akin to kind [read: not a total dick] and blankly stare at him when he was trying to be funny but really wasn't. She would yell when he was being unreasonable and gauged her on purpose, trying desperately to get though his thick skull – sometimes shooting a hex his way as well – and she would mostly ignore him when he truly deeply hurt her…

 _Flashback: 4 years ago_

 _"Is everything all right? You seem off edge lately." Her voice laced with concern, her eyes shining bright with honest regard._

 _"I'm fine." He snapped, shooting her an unmistakably deathly glare. This was none of her damn business._

 _"Define fine." She asked unfazed, a small understanding smiles pulling on her lips._

 _Was she pitying him? Did she really think that she understood anything of him? How dare she?! Presumptuous snotty little know-it-all!_

 _"Absolutely fantastic, Granger! I imagine it to be akin to the feeling you had when my precious aunt Bellatrix left her mark on you. Quite the spectacle."_

 _Her grin disappeared as she hurried to pull down her sleeves on instant. While she tried to magically hide the 'mudblood' scar on her forearm with an illusional charm every day, it was still clearly there – if nothing else always in her memory._

 _"That was uncalled for." She swallowed, her voice small._

 _Pathetic._

 _And yet, there was something so raw about the way she looked at him, it scared him. It send a wave of emotions through his body, emotions he never got unless she was around._

 _Guilt.  
Humiliation.  
Consideration._

 _When her big brown eyes were sparkling with unshed tears like that, he felt the urge to wrap her up in a blanket and stroke her back until she relaxed. Maybe he'd even read her that stupid book 'Hogwarts a history' she'd seemed so fond of back at school._

 _See?_

 _This wasn't good: She ruined his Malfoy ways. She needed to be out of his sight like yesterday._

 _Draco snorted. "Do I honesty look like I care?" His eyes drifted to the paperwork in front of him, unable to look at her sad eyes any longer and he made a point of sighing loudly to come across unfazed._

 _"No. Malfoy's don't show trivial emotions. Only the best kind: anger and power." Granger quoted. Apparently, he should stop quoting his father out loud, she was way too quick a study to pick it up and remember it. That's what you got for working with a know-it-all nerd._

 _"Exactly." Came his bored reply. "Now leave."_

 _She didn't._

 _"Doesn't mean you don't have any other emotions, Malfoy." She shrugged._

 _Oh, Merlin-motherfucking no! She was getting way too comfortable!_

 _His eyes snapped to her venomously and she too in his demeanor guardedly, taking a small step back, but at the same time she raised her courage, lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, giving no indication of backing away for whatever was to come._

 _He respected her for it._

 _He hated her for it._

 _And thus, he had to punish her severely._

 _"Is there a particular reason you and your muggle old-lady skirts are still contaminating my sight? I can handle only so much exposure to a mudblood in one day. It's disgusting really. I'm starting to feel nauseous." His words were spoken razor sharp, and man if they did not cut her to the bone… _

_The way she stared at him next would leave him awake and uncomfortably twisting in his bed all night: Her demeanor had been dull, if not for her eyes: Staring at him with a whirl of emotions raging in them. All equally depressing._

 _Anger. Hurt. Sadness. Frustration. Disappointment. And - worst of all – pity._

 _He could do without her fucking pity._

 _And yet, the mere thought of that look would haunt him for days. Either way, she had left him alone without another word for the rest of the day and that had been what he wanted right?_

 _Right… Totally._

 _End of flashback_

He would give up his whole Malfoy fortune if that was what it took to get her back, no need to think twice about it. The past 4 months had felt like ages filled of loneliness. He truly hadn't realized what a big role Granger played in his life. Sure he knew they had been working together for six years before she packed up her stuff and left. He also knew she'd been living with him for three months out of necessity and that they had been having sex for 8 weeks out of… what exactly? Fun? Boredom? Lust?

But he had never known how much he truly cared for her before she left. He had never thought he actually wanted her unasked consult and opinions on matters, work or private respectively. He had never realized how she'd made sure the house was warmed up and dinner was either ready, in the make or on the way by the time he came home. He had never realized how much he actually enjoyed eating take-out Chinese in front of her Muggle TV. He had never before realized how he craved her defiance to make the otherwise dull and boring days more interesting.

He did know now.

If only he could go back in time, treat her better: The way she deserved… Because oh, she deserved so much better than what he had given her. After all, she had given him chances no one else would've. She had tried to see reason with him when no one else would even consider it.

 _Flashback: 6 years ago_

 _He had walked up and down her street about 5 times now… It wasn't because he couldn't find her apartment – which had been plausible as well, seeing that it was so fucking small – but because he was collecting the courage to actually approach her._

 _He had a plan. Multiple ones, actually. All focused on rebuilding the city and rewriting some laws in favor of both purebloods and muggleborns. He had the funds, he had the employment, he had the ideas. All he needed was someone who would be taken seriously by the Ministry when these changes were to be presented. If it was done in his name, he was sure all of his good and hard work would be shoved into the closest bin without as much as a single glance at them._

 _He couldn't do this alone. He needed someone._

 _And thus, he found himself at the doorstep of the teeny tiny apartment of Hermione Granger: His long-time enemy who had defended him in court, courageously saving him from a life of rotting away in Azkaban. She had had no reason whatsoever to defend him, especially not after he had let her suffer at the hands of his aunt… He could still see her pleading eyes focused on him every time he closed his eyes._

 _Yes, Granger had every reason in the world to hate him._

 _And yet, she had seen passed her prejudice and personal dislike. She had helped him when she had every right not to… He had been grateful. Still was. And now he somehow had the actual nerve to go to her and ask for even more favors. If roles had been reversed, he was sure he would've let her rot away in jail._

 _Still… She was the only wizard from the Order he might stand a chance with to get her to help him. She was his only silver lining on redemption._

 _And so… He knocked._

 _"Malfoy." She stated emotionless, opening the door just enough for him to see a glimpse of her muggle outfit. "Takes a lot of nerve to show up here. Not at all bad for a coward. Must admit, I'm impressed." It stung, yet he had the impression there was little true malice in her words, but even if there was, he couldn't blame her so he let it slide._

 _"Work for me." He blurted out nervously._

 _She stared at him blankly for a few seconds before snorting loudly, clearly amused although he couldn't fathom why. Nothing had come across funny to him so far. "Work for you? Are you sane? Why on earth would I want to do that?" She shook her head, grinning as she tried to shut the door between them. "Good day, Malfoy."_

 _"Wait!" His food was in between her door and the doorpost in a matter of seconds. "Granger, wait. Hear me out. Please."_

 _Please? Please? Where did that come from? Lucius would be sure to roll around in his grave. 'Malfoys do not beg.' He heard his father's reprimanding voice say in his head. _

_It seemed to work well enough though as the door reopened again and Granger's head peeked through. She glanced briefly at the briefcase in his hands before sighing and making a show of rolling her eyes._

 _Still, reluctantly or not, she opened the door fully and motioned for him to come in._

 _"You've got five minutes."_

 _End of flashback_

Merlin, how he wished to go back to that day. He had felt so humble and grateful, and even though he'd never stopped feeling grateful towards her, somewhere along the way he had stopped showing it. He had fallen back into his old ways, inevitably falling back onto his own sword of stupidity.

Had he not learned from the first time?  
She had already miraculously forgiven him the first time for Merlin's sake!  
Why did he have to screw up his second chance as well?

 _Flashback: 5 years ago_

 _"You're just as prideful as I am, Granger!" He barked. "If not more so. Only in my case it's accounted for."_

 _She scoffed. "Please. Being a pureblood heir is hardly a legitimate reason, Malfoy."_

 _Draco growled in frustration. He could strangle the hag. He could… He really fucking could. He couldn't quite recall how the fight had started, or what it was about to begin with but he did know one thing: all of their fights eventually ended up discussing one single thing: his fucking blood-status… and he was sick of it!_

 _Breathing deeply to control his fuming anger, he settled on a cold indifferent demeanor._

 _"I'm stunned, Granger, what a legitimate argument you make." Draco deadpanned, showing literally no emotion on his face. "In your eyes I really can do no right, can I? You know what, Granger… I've sat out my punishment, I've made my amends and send my apologies. I've done my duty and I'm trying to rebuild the world for the better with everything I do nowadays. I've done everything and more to show I regret my past wrongdoings, so it's now up to the rest of the world to decide whether or not they want to forgive me - no need, I know you certainly shan't - but I'm done wallowing in self-pity and guilt and I'm sure as hell not going to blame my entire ancestry for something they had no control over."_

 _She looked like she was about to cut in but he didn't give her the time to open her mouth._

 _"My father made mistakes – big ones at that – and I've made some serious wrong calls too. But I've matured, I've learned and I've changed my visions and ways. If you would ask me now, this whole blood purity spectrum is horridly out of date, but you won't ask me now, because you don't want to believe I've changed. And yet, here I am trying to manufacture or sponsor all kinds of changes that will make this world better and safer. I certainly think some of our traditions and laws will have to make room for new, but as far as I can see, mistakes don't force me to break with my entire lineage to prove a point to you or anybody else. Mistakes merely teach me a lessen and encourage me to do something productive about it and change life for the better."_

 _Without another word he turned around and left her office, ignoring her for the rest of the day._

 _…_

 _The following morning she walked into his office, her step like a shot of Firewhiskey: strong, determined, purposefully… and sensationally._

 _She looked impeccable as always: Her wild curls tamed into soft ringlets, bouncing playfully with her step as she strode all the way towards his desk, handing him some files forcefully._

 _Draco stack his hand in the air, taking the files from her but didn't bother to look up. The one glance at her the moment she stepped into his office had already been enough to get him flustered, and generally Draco hated being flustered. He couldn't think properly, let alone form a coherent sentence when she was around. It was pathetic really how much her presence affected him at times. The less attention he gave her, the better._

 _It was not meant to be._

 _She cleared her throat softly._

 _"Is there something else you need, Granger?" He asked her as bored as he could muster, still not looking up._

 _"I'm sorry." She stated._

 _Well that definitely caught his attention. His eyes snapped up to hers, his signature smirk in place as he raised a delicate eyebrow in question. _

_"Yesterday. I was out of line. My apologies." She told him reluctantly before scowling at him. "Wipe that smug grin of your face before I hex it off." She snapped, turning promptly on her heals to walk out of his office. But he didn't want her to go, not quite yet._

 _"So, you've forgiven me then? For my previous believes."_

 _Her back stiffened but she continued her steps until she was at his office door once again. Glancing over her shoulder he could see the honesty in her eyes._

 _"Malfoy, I never held anything that happened against you to begin with."_

 _He knitted his brows in confusion. That didn't make any sense. Why had she made such an effort to avoid him as much as she could for the past year they worked together, if she didn't? Why did she always start a fight? True, so did he because he liked to fight her, but still._

 _He could swear she hadn't forgiven him yet. If she ever would._

 _"Holding a grudge and disliking a person's character are two completely different things, Malfoy. I wasn't angry, I simply didn't like you." She sighed but seemingly reluctant continued her explanation. "But that opinion was indeed based and or biased on your old character. I'll try to be open for the new from now on."_

 _And with those words she left, leaving him in doubt whether he should grin or feel offended._

 _Bloody witch._

 _End of flashback_

Draco was pulled out of his thoughts when Ginny stormed into his office.

"Malfoy! She... I've got a letter!"


	3. Chapter 3: Hermione's Letter

**DPOV**

Draco's eyes snapped to the redhead in his office, holding a white muggle-letter in her hands.

This was it.

The moment he'd been silently praying for every day for the past 3,5 months: He had been hoping for Granger to come back home ever since she first left a little under 4 months ago. Two weeks in, he had set aside enough of his pride to invade Ginny's home, fully thinking the girl would know where Hermione was. It was only then, upon learning that Granger had left without as much as an explanation to her best friend, the serious worrying had begun.

It had worn at him. Eaten him alive.

 _Flashback: 3 months ago_

 _"Miss! You cannot storm in there!" Draco heard his secretary shout from the hallways just before a fuming Ginny stormed into his office._

 _"What is this!" She accused, throwing an issue of the Daily Prophet on his desk although her hands strangely enough gestured to his person instead of the paper._

 _Draco nodded his head to his secretary as a sign it was okay and the girl hurriedly left the room, closing the door behind him. "What is what?" He asked the fuming redhead in front of him._

 _"That." Ginny said, pointing at the picture on the Daily Prophet briefly before moving her finger back up to his face again._

 _"My face." Draco smirked and sat back in his chair, hand behind his head. "Go ahead, take a picture. I know it's exceedingly dashing."_

 _"Malfoy you look terrible!" Ginny yelled accusingly, but her eyes spoke of concern._

 _Unmistakably so._

 _He had not seen the redhead in two weeks - ever since that night he'd first found out Granger left - and although he had never truly spoken to the girl before or after that night, he could already see why she and Granger were best friends. They had a lot in common: Both passionately angry and fiercely loyal, for sure, but they also seemed to rule with a kindness. A kindness that somehow left their authority unblemished instead of turning them weak, like his father had always told him it would. It was a true virtue, one he respected enormously on Granger. With the Weaselette he couldn't care less though._

 _"When have you last slept or eaten?" Ginny asked, her voice softer now._

 _Great. He was so not in need of her pity. _

_"Is your mother just as fretful?" He taunted. Knowing full well how Granger used to complain about Mrs. Weasley's patronizing ways._

 _"Shove it, Malfoy." Ginny hissed, reminding him of Granger, although unlike Granger, Ginny actually showed it stung. Her mistake._

 _"I bet she is, bad habits seem to plague the Weasel-family." Draco snarled meanly. "Filthy animals, all of you."_

 _Ginny looked like she was ready to explode and all though Granger had looked very much the same on a number of occasions, unlike Granger, Ginny actually caved to the pathetic impulse._

 _"THIS! THIS IS EXACTLY WHY HERMIONE LEFT, YOU IDIOT!"_

 _Pathetic or not… That sure shut him up fairly quickly. Draco pursed his lips annoyed and stared off in the distance, refusing to answer while Ginny tried to collect her calm and dignity. When she had he noticed how or a moment she just stood there, watching him through narrowed eyes as if he were a hungry shark and she the pretty little fish. But he had no appetite._

 _"I know that you're worried about her, Malfoy. So am I. But you need to eat and sleep. The bags under your eyes, the hollow-ass cheeks… If she comes back and you are dead, what good would it do?"_

 _When at last Ginny sighed and turned to leave he decided to answer._

 _"What in Merlin's name can I do?" And the girl's head whipped around by his use of her name. "She left because of me."_

 _Ginny looked at him with something akin to regret._

 _"Yes. But she will come back too, and when she does, you'll have to make sure she stays because of you." Ginny sighed and shook her head in disbelieve at her own words. "Merlin knows why, but you somehow did make her happy. Unintentionally I'm sure, but still, you did it once so who knows it will work a second time." Reluctant at her kind words she added as an afterthought: "But if you look like a skeleton that will never work, of course. Nobody likes a crier, Malfoy." And with those last words, she apparated away._

 _Two hours later Draco received an invitation to have dinner at her place later that night (with the reassurance Harry was on an Auror mission and would not be there) and strangely enough, Draco decided to go._

 _End of Flashback_

Draco had been wishing the stars that Granger was somewhere safe and would at the very least contact – if not him – Ginny to let them know she was alright. As radio silence continued however, he had hired more and more private investigators, absolutely desperate for any sign of Granger being alive and well, regardless how it came about.

And now, _finally,_ his prayers had been answered and Ginny got a letter. He should feel as thrilled as Ginny was, or at the very least he should feel relieved. But all he felt was fear.

What if that letter contained nothing more than a goodbye? An apology that she was not coming back because she found a better life. One without him and his unfair cruelty.

It was plausible.  
Understandable even.

On the inside, Draco was screaming and pulling his hair out in a rage of utter despair and anxiousness, but he knew better than to let his feelings show on the outside: He had always been exceptionally good at hiding his own emotions behind arrogance, offending sneers and unfazed smirks. After all, it was the way he was raised.

If one would believe Lucius – although one never _should_ – showing emotions was for the weak. Having your emotions on display was like wearing your heart on your sleeve: It made you an easy target and predictable.

Predictability would always have you end up dead.

Showing emotions was equal to handing yourself on a silver platter to your enemy - even if you didn't realize you had any - and for that, you should never show your emotions but always take advantage of those who did.

Draco, in his younger years, had fully listened to that lesson of course. It was part of the reason why he picked on Potter so much growing up. Scarface had a way of showing his intense emotions openly: It had been quite the entertaining spectacle, even if you saw his responses coming from a mile away. Weasel had been simply to dumb to understand half of Draco's insults, so there was little fun to be had there except for picking on the boy's biggest insecurity: money – or well, his lack thereof. It helped that Draco himself liked bragging about it too. And then last but not least, there had been Hermione… A witch he'd been raised to loath and feel disgusted by since birth. A witch he had been told to be his inferior: A mudblood far beneath his notice. And yet, there she was: Always in his fucking face, stealing his involuntary attention.

It had started already on the first day of Hogwarts. He had seen her from a distance, almost captivated by her eagerness to take everything in before he'd been reminded how disgusting she was. She had been looking around Hogwarts with such a look of excited wonder on her face, Draco just _had_ to ruin that bubble of perfect innocence. It bothered him that someone who had no business in being there was enjoying the experience of every little thing he took for granted. Flying candles? Who cared?! He certainly did not and yet there she was with her bushy hair and big bold sparkling eyes, looking at it like it was the best thing in the word. The eagerness in her demeanor just kept stealing his attention on more than one occasion that day. Attention he'd been told she wasn't worth.

Her intellect wouldn't help his case much either and his resolution not to notice her was soon proven to be futile. When the teachers asked a question, her finger was always the first to shoot up in the air. Unwavering and perfectly straight like an arrow, again stealing the attention she didn't deserve. Her answer would be bloody perfect as well, elaborating on all kinds of possible 'if's' and 'when's' while he often didn't even know the general answer. How was it that she had bested him at everything while he had been raised to believe she was his inferior?! Outrageous.

What made matters even worse was the fact he couldn't play her like he did Potter and Weasel. Unlike the Weasel, the know-it-all actually had a brain and unlike Potter, her emotions were difficult to pinpoint. Granger's unpredictability was also the reason he never saw that punch coming back in third year… When he insulted her, more often than not, she had looked completely unimpressed with him: Her brows slightly furrowed in an amused sort of disdain, like she could not quite believe the rubbish coming out of his mouth. For his young self, this had been absolutely absurd. He was a Malfoy. A Malfoy! No one should be looking at him in disdain! It simply wasn't done!

The only offense that seemed to hit its target was calling her a filthy Mudblood. But as years progressed, he had felt less and less disgusted by her – especially not since Yule Ball – and thus, the words later barely left his lips.

"You've got a letter." Draco repeated to the redhead in front of him, an edge clear in his voice. "What does it say?"

"I don't know yet." Ginny's enthusiasm decreased significantly. "I hurried here to tell you, before I even thought about opening it." Well that was a surprise. And as it appeared by the furrow in Ginny's brow, she was confused by the truth behind her statement as well. "Maybe I was scared of what it might say."

"Why would _you_ be scared?" Draco asked genuinely confused. "You've done nothing wrong!"

"I know. I just…" Ginny sighed, now looking anxious at the envelope in her hands herself. "That night when she left, before she came home to find you saying what you did, we went out together and we ended up fighting over you – again, I might add."

Well, _that_ was new information. Draco raised an eyebrow in question.

"I don't even know anymore how it started exactly. I just know that we were arguing over your intentions and she defended you so forcefully." Ginny looked away. "You have to understand I didn't know you back then, Malfoy." Ginny pleaded. "I always over-react when I'm angry. She knows that, she is the same way but…"

"What did you say to her?" Draco ordered and Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, desperately hoping it would make the question disappear.

"I might've told her she was a fool to believe you actually cared and that I wouldn't be there for her to pick up the pieces." So much for being a Gryffindor, Ginny barely looked him in the eyes as she blushed ashamed. "I didn't mean it of course! As I said I always over-react! I didn't know you. I didn't know how much you cared for her… I… I…" It was clear Ginny was lost for words and expected an angry response from Draco any second now. He could tell by her every move. The flinching, the stutter, the body language. She was prepared for onslaught.

But Draco wasn't mad.  
Alright, he was livid… But for once his anger was completely 100% focussed on the only person deserving of it: himself.

"I'm not angry with you, Gin." He told her truthfully. "If anything I'm even more mad at myself than before." His fist connected with the table forcefully as he stood up before walking over to the window. Staring out over the city he collected his thoughts.

Granger had fought with her best friend over him, and by the sound of it, it hadn't been an uncommon situation either. Meaning that not once, not twice, but multiple times she had defended his character while he had given her nothing but some ogling eyes. She stood up for him, believed in him… And in return, by as much of a glance of one of his friends in her direction, he had insulted her ruthlessly.

Never before he had wanted to take those words back so greatly as he did now. And that was saying something because he had cried himself to sleep over it at least once or twice.

Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

"Open the letter." He ordered Ginny. "She isn't mad at you. Otherwise she would never have come to you after my stupid insults."

He heard her open it before her soft voice read it out loud.

 _Dear Ginny,_

 _Oh! How time passes by quickly! I'm truly sorry for neglecting to tell you how I've been faring lately.  
I've been without a doubt the most terrible friend to you! I hope you can forgive me or will be able to come up with a way to redeem myself. There is no need for owling it to me… You can tell me in person, since I'm back in London as we speak!_

 _Oh, Ginny. I dearly wish to see you again!  
How about tomorrow, 7pm at our special 'happy-spot'?  
There is a lot I've been meaning to tell you._

 _Please don't be too cross with me, Gin. I truly missed you every day but my life has been such a rollercoaster as of late… I needed some time on my own to make up my mind. I realize now how right you were about Malfoy (and how wrong I was! Why people keep calling me the brightest witch of our age is beyond me). Either way, I've come to my senses and I won't be fooled any longer! Next time you tell me something I refuse to believe, just remind me of this case and I'll lose all my stubbornness at once. Promise._

 _Please don't mention my coming back to London to anyone yet, including Harry.  
I want to surprise them Sunday morning with brunch at the Burrow!_

 _Hopefully till tomorrow._

 _Love, Hermione._

Somewhere during Ginny's reading, Draco had averted all coherent listening as his mind concentrated on one single thing, chanting it over and over again.

"She's in London." Draco breathed, his eyes roaming over the city with a newfound interest. "She's back. She's actually back." He turned around to look at Ginny, who was staring both excited and guarded at the letter in her hands. "Where is that special place?"

" _No-o_." Ginny stretched the word out pointedly and even a tat beratingly, as if he were a child with his hand in the cookie jar.

" _Ye-es_." Draco imitated her tone of voice, albeit more menacingly.

Unlike many other things he changed after the war, his response on being told no was not one of them. He was used to getting his way and naturally being told no was not something he took kindly. But he usually – if not always – found a way to get what he wanted.

And man, how he wanted to see Granger again.

She scoffed. "Absolutely not."

"It's not up for discussion." He stated, completely serious.

"Exactly." She shot back. " _I_ am going to meet her and _you_ are going to do whatever it is you had already planned."

Draco snorted. "Out of curiosity. How plausible do you think it is that I'm going to let this one pass without a fight? We both know I'm going to get my way." At her raised eyebrows he elaborated. "I'm a _Malfoy_. Malfoys always get their way."

At that, Ginny openly laughed. "She used to tell me your arrogance was highly amusing. I finally understand it now."

Draco scoffed and pulled his wand. "I'm quite serious, Weasley." He flinched at his use of her surname. He had so little esteem for the other Weasley-members it actually hurt to be reminded at Ginny's connection to them. He respected her too much to be related to the lot of them.

"Merlin!" Ginny cried undignified, her eyes never leaving the want pointed at her. She was actually afraid and some rotten part in him couldn't help but be thrilled at that. "For all you know your presence would only scare her away. Because that's all you will be doing by parading yourself in front of her when she expects to see me and only me."

Draco snorted. "Not likely." This was Hermione Granger they were talking about after all. The girl punched him in the face once, there was no way she would ever be scared of his mere presence. In all fairness, he still couldn't wrap his mind around why she had left the entirety of Wizarding London to begin with, but if he knew Granger even a little bit, he did know one thing: If the girl ran, it was _not_ out of fear.

"I'm not going to give up on this." Draco snarled. "So do us both a favor and spare us some time and hexes by telling me the location now." This admission was his downfall. He could tell by the way Ginny's eyes filled with understanding and something infinitely worse.

Pity.

Draco snapped his eyes away from her as if burned. He didn't want her pity or compassion. Nor did he want her sympathy or understanding. He wanted Granger.

Just Granger.

Every bloody fiber in his body was craving for her. The soothing sound of her voice, the thrilling sight of her smile, her lovely scent, her gentle touch… anything really. And now it had learned that she was back in London – and knowing Granger this meant Muggle London – and the girl in front of him was his only hope on getting to her.

And that same girl seemed resolute not to help him getting there.

"Look." Ginny started empathetically. "I will put in a good word for you, Malfoy. I will tell her how wrong I was in my former judgement of you. I promise you, I will help you get back together with her as much as I can, because Merlin knows how guilty I feel for the things I said about you before I actually got to know you." She sighed deeply and let out a humorous snort. "As weird as it is, I consider you a friend now so naturally I will do as much as I can to help your case but regardless of our newfound friendship Hermione is still my _best_ friend and that makes her my priority. I want to hear her out and see how she's been faring before I'm even going to mention you. Asking anything different of me would be selfish."

It was true. She was right and damn if he knew it. Granger _should_ come first, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be a sore loser about it.

"You're lying. You never wanted us together so why start now?!" Draco hissed, his eyes on the setting sun, casting a beautiful warming glow over the city.

"That's not true and you know it!" Ginny cried angrily, she opened her mouth to say more but before she could Draco cut her off.

"I can look on from a distance." The thought left his lips before he even realized he had been thinking it. "She will never know I'm there."

"Ew! That's so perverted." Ginny wrinkled her nose before spotting the questioning look Draco was still giving her. "So that's a definite _NO_ , Malfoy." She clarified, rolling her eyes at his haughty sneer.

"Fine." He snapped, giving up on this particular case while mentally reminding himself that losing a battle was not the same as losing the war. He was not about to give up on Granger after all. He would not let her slip through his fingers again.

He would just have to find another means to his end of getting to her…

"Ginny, If I write her a letter, will you give it to her?"

Ginny grinned widely at him. "See, now _that_ I can do."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, hope you're enjoying the story so far.  
If you got the time, let me know what you think!**

 **And no worries: The next chapter will finally contain some Dramione, I just thought it was important to describe how Draco has had loads of time to reevaluate his... everything really: his past wrongdoings and beliefs, his behavior, the roll of Hermione in his life, etc.**


	4. Chapter 4: Hermione's Hometown

**Thank you for all the reads/follows/fav's/reviews.  
** **Seriously, without you guys (especially reviewers) I would've already quit this story ages ago (well, a month but shh), seeing I'm usually more of a person with lots of stories inside my head but never really taking the time to work them out.**

 **But for you guys I'm willing to try :)**

 **I decided to take the story to a whole new level of drama, so I hope you guys enjoy it.  
I myself am not entirely too sure about the direction I've chosen but the scenario just didn't stop from playing inside my head and I have some pretty neat idea's to follow it up but yeah... maybe I should've left it simple. **

**If it's too much, let me know.  
If you dig it, let me know as well. **

**Love & enjoy!**

 **HPOV**

It was good to be back in London. Scary, but good.

Something about the city always managed to warm her up. Not literally, as the current frosty air prickled the baby hairs at the back of her neck and made her shiver all over, but emotionally the city was soothing: After losing her parental home, Hogwarts, the Burrow, her own little apartment and hell, even the Malfoy Manor as a place she felt safe, London was quite literally all she had left in the world that gave her a feeling of being 'home'.

Like many other big cities, London too was ever changing, never the same. And yet every other street gave her a warm feeling of nostalgia, especially in the muggle part of the city: The place she was born and raised in and contained close to all memories she had of her childhood. Yes, Hermione harbored many fond memories of the place, like the picnics she used to have with her parents in Hyde Park in summer, eating ice creams and feeding ducks, or the many trips she made with her mother to bookshops across town. The time she lost her very first tooth in the middle of the street – which was a very big happening for a kid with two dentists as parents – or the time when her father was chased by a goat in the patting zoo.

These were all memories she wouldn't change for the world, but it was also a bitter-sweet reminder of all she once had and could never have again. Her parents would never again have the same memories she did, or if they did she – their only child – would not be in them.

They would never remember her.

It was her own fault really. She knew that. To guarantee their safety during the War she had had to distance herself from their lives and erase herself from their memories. It had worked and Hermione did not regret doing it, not for one moment, but that didn't make it any less painful.

But even though the memories hurt at times, Christmas was coming up and Hermione couldn't imagine spending the holiday season anywhere else than in London… And thus, she came back.

Besides, the four months she'd been away had been more than enough time to postpone the inevitable. Hermione, never the one to back away from a fight, had always preferred a bitter truth above blissful ignorance. If she had been courageous enough to face Voldemort with squared shoulders and a chin raised in the air while she was barely an adult at the time, she would be courageous enough to face the truth that was her life… Or would be soon enough.

She was Hermione Jean Granger for Merlin's sake, proclaimed brightest witch and Golden Girl (which both were ridiculous names if you'd asked her, but still). She could handle anything coming her way… So why had she fled the city to begin with?

If anyone had asked her that question four months ago, Hermione wouldn't have known the answer to that. Sure, Malfoy being a dick hadn't helped much – but really, what's new? – and neither had the fight with Ginny earlier that evening.

But still, those weren't exactly compelling arguments to leave. No, if anything, those arguments made her sound weak and fragile, which were not quite the things Hermione liked to be associated with.

But as it turned out, her fleeing London had had little to do with not wanting to fight and everything to do with not knowing where to fight for anymore.

You see, after the war Hermione had been preoccupied dealing with everything and everyone around her, only to disregard herself. First and foremost, Hermione had the search of her parents to claim her time and after having found them, she spend months on researching how to restore their memories. Then, exactly on the moment when all hope seemed lost and she'd been forced to deal with processing the loss of her parents' memory of her forever, Malfoy had showed up on her doorstep, proposing a business plan.

At the time she had told herself it simply was a business plan she couldn't refuse and of course, in a way it was. What idiot would pass on the offer of practically getting unlimited funding to carry out her own made up plans she thought would improve the Wizarding world for the muggle-born wizards (and of course other minorities like house-elves, werewolves, etc.)? Nobody in their right mind would say no to such a proposal, even if it involved working alongside a childhood nemesis whose aunt just so happened to have tortured you in his home. Right? Right.

And although the business offer truly was one she couldn't refuse, Hermione now saw that it had also served as lightning rod for the emotional storm inside her own mind. It was easy to focus all of that raging energy of PTSD, mourning and despair on her job, leaving her exhausted enough after a day of hard work not to take a closer look at herself. And of course, nobody really could (or dared to) object to her hard – if not somewhat obsessive – work regarding the rebuild of the city either. It had to be done and while the Ministry bickered about small disagreements and dealt with financial problems, Malfoy and Hermione took leading roles with regards to reconstruction and legislative proposals.

Only gratefulness was bestowed upon them. Not skepticism.

And her friends were all too busy dealing with their own problems anyway. They were all respectively wallowing in guilt, grief and self-pity. Hell, spending time with them had become close to yet another chore for Hermione at times. Laughs at the Burrow had completely disappeared after Fred died. Harry really took the blame upon himself and his constant unjustly self-proclaimed blame didn't particularly do anything to cheer the mood either… But worst of all was her boyfriend at the time: Ron.

Ron had always been hotheaded, but after his brother's dead he tended to throw himself a pity-party with at least one bottle of Firewhisky every day. The alcohol of course increase his temper and the PTSD did not weaken this particular trait either. As time went by, Ron became not only eruptive but violent and at times even hostile. Not always of course, and he always regretted it afterwards, but it had been a stressful time for Hermione.

Looking back on those three years of her life she'd spend with her former best friend as her boyfriend, she couldn't think of one single reason why she'd stayed. It was not that they had ever established a solid relationship before the war. If anything, their relationship was a result of coping with losing so much in their young lives: Their youth, their innocence, their freedom, their safety… Yes, somewhere between the confusing times of finding horcruxes and fighting Death Eaters they had grown closer, both clinging onto the only few good things they had left in their lives.

After the war it just made no sense to end things. They were part of the Golden Trio, best friends of _the_ Harry Potter and they loved each other, in which degree was debatable, as was their suitability, but they did love each other. If nothing else, like friends.

It had taken Hermione over three years to end things and even then only because of Malfoy (Malfoy!) who had proven to be persistent in poking the bear that was Hermione's wrath regarding Ron. She hated to admit it, but in Ron's case Draco's constant nagging about her having a horrible taste (in men) had been completely justified. Not that it was any of his business… At the time anyway.

In the end he'd turned out right. Not only about Ron but – unknown to him – himself as well. It was ridiculous, to say the least. Hermione Jean Granger falling for her arrogant bad-tempered childhood foe: Draco Lucius Malfoy.

And yet, it had been so.

She supposed it had started years ago, albeit unconsciously. Somewhere between learning to tolerate his personality and respect his abilities and ambition, she had found herself actually enjoying his presence. Yes, he was snarky and mean, cynical and narcissistic. But he was also protective and caring. He noticed literally every single little detail and in his own seemingly impassive ways he truly was attentive, even before anything between them had developed into something more than strictly business.

 _Flashback: 2 years ago_

 _Today was not her day._

 _First and foremost, it was a Wednesday and somehow Wednesdays always had it out for her. It simply was too far into the week to have energy left from the past weekend, but it was still too far away from the new one to find joy in finishing the day._

 _That being said, the coffee machine at the office had broken down yesterday and still wasn't fixed and it had been raining all day today. The Former increasing her already annoyed mood tremendously and the latter meaning that her carefully tamed locks were exploded into the familiar bush of frizzy little strings from hell… Also not helpful with regards to her temper. _

_Then, there was the fact that she was also on her period, which spoke volumes already, and as if the day hadn't been bad enough with all of that drama going on already, she also lost her case with the Ministry on the keeping of Magical beasts. Hermione had proposed to obligate registration for all Magical beasts to ensure their safety and well-being by means of annual check-ups. Especially regarding the endangered species._

 _Apparently, this would take away too much from the liberty of Wizards. "Next thing you know we will have to check up on their infant kids as well", one legal advisor had joked, although Hermione couldn't see much humor in the statement. It was actually a damn good plan if it would entail a decrease in child-abuse (which was a word non-existent in the wizarding world)._

 _Moreover, on her way back to the office some idiot had bumped into her, spilling his hot coffee all over her new white blouse and all the magic in the world hadn't been able to erase the stain. Once safely inside the walls of her office, Hermione then had tried to change into a new spare blouse, only to be walked in on by Malfoy, who of course disregarded her secretary's admonishments that he was not allowed to enter her office. Upon registering the scene in front of him he had just stood there, watching her button up her blouse before laughing – laughing! – at her. When she had grabbed her wand to hex him out he simply threw up his hands in the air in defense before walking out of her office, still chuckling as he did and muttering something about coming back later after she had shagged herself._

 _Seriously, Hermione knew she was not that ridiculous to look at. She had even been wearing her new white lacy bralette. It was even to be considered sexy (she knew that for sure because Ginny said so). Still, it stung that he had laughed._

 _Pushing the hurt and anger away, she focused all of her attention back on her work… Until a few hours later when Malfoy walked into her office again._

 _"Grangie-bear, time for a break." He mocked in a sing-song voice._

 _She was about to scowl at him when the smell of something divine filled her nostrils. Looking up, she watched him casually strolling towards her, holding a bag of fancy-looking take out._

 _With a mere gesture of his hands all the papers and files that had been scattered on her desk flew into neat piles onto the cabinet on the other side of the room._

 _What a show off!  
Did he really think she would be impressed with his wandless magic? Arrogant bastard._

 _"He, I was still working on those!" She accused angrily as he rolled his eyes and dropped the bag on the desk between them._

 _"It's 8pm. I know you haven't eaten since lunch at 12. You need food."_

 _"As if you care." Hermione grinned. Draco ignored her as he unpacked the bag further, even going as far as taking out silver cutlery. Silver. Seriously, this man did not know the concept of take-out._

 _As Malfoy was about to take a seat on the chair on the opposite side of her desk, apparently feeling the desire to eat with her, Hermione decided to move the chair backwards with some wandless magic of her own._

 _"Take your filthy fancy food and silverware back to were you came from. I have work to finish."_

 _"Filthy?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, his eyes clearly amused. "Seriously Granger, you don't even know what's in there."_

 _"I'm serious, Malfoy. Do not test me today. I'm not in the mood for food or company."_

 _"I don't care. I am."_

 _"Then ask Belinda. She's been in love with you for years now."_

 _"Ew, don't remind me." Malfoy wrinkled his nose, undoubtedly thinking about the CIO. Hermione looked at him annoyed. Truth was, Belinda wasn't the most beautiful girl on the planet, but she was kind, funny and seriously good at her job. Not worthy of an 'ew'. "Besides, between you two, she definitely had her fair share of food."_

 _Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you insinuating?" No, Belinda wasn't thin like a model or anything but she certainly was not fat either. Hermione hated the stigma of girls needing to be thin to be deemed beautiful in the eyes of society and she had made it known to Malfoy every time some tall thin bimbo made her way out of his office after yet another 'satisfying business deal'. He truly was disgusting._

 _"Merlin, Granger!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Stop mistaking my words. Even you have to admit that between you two you are the skinnier one."_

 _"Fine, but I'm still not in need of food or your company!"_

 _"Granger, the thing with me is that no one truly needs it, but they all want it anyway. You can stay alive on mediocre Weasel-bread and Scarface-broccoli for the rest of your life, but I'm the scandalously tasty hot, wet chocolate desert. Sinful. Upscale. Delicious."_

 _"And yet, only the stuff coming out of your mouth and arse are brown."_

 _"Just eat the damn food."_

 _"I'm not hungry, mommy." Hermione pouted in jest._

 _Draco pulled a face. "What are you, a child?"_

 _"Your treating me like one."_

 _"I wouldn't if you would act like the grown up are and take care of yourself for once! At the rate you're disregarding your health you'll be dead in no time. I seriously won't pay you a sickness benefit if you fall ill! Mark my words."_

 _"So, it's about the money then." Hermione grinned, knowing full well how angry it made Malfoy._

 _In the past four years he truly had changed. He still prided himself on many things that were not worth priding oneself on, but he also really had things to be proud of. Like his need to use his money for the greater good._

 _That was to say, Draco was a spoiled kid. Always had been, always would be, but in recent years he couldn't stand to be called greedy. Even if he still enjoyed pampering himself with endless luxury, every next thing just that tiny bit more useless than the former, he also invested a fair share of his money into purposes solely not beneficial to himself. She suspected it was his way of bribing his conscious, although she had to admit, he worked hard for it too, so in a way she approved._

 _Still, even hinting on the fact that he was greedy would normally provoke a funny reaction… but alas, today really was her worst day ever because he didn't take the bait._

 _"Eat your damn meal, woman." He said, shoving a box her way._

 _It really did smell damn good and Hermione was tempted to open it but doing that would mean caving to Malfoy's wish. He was being truly disappointing really: Of all the days he decided to be civil it had to be on the one day she would've gladly seen him just as riled up as she had felt all day. Fighting with Malfoy always helped to blow of some steam._

 _"I was just planning on going home to do just that." Hermione lied convincingly but one quick glance into his eyes let her know just how futile her efforts were._

 _"Right." He snorted._

 _"I was!" She tried again, offended by his arrogance in pretending to know her. Seriously, the nerve!_

 _"Granger, you've been working with me for what now? 1 year?"_

 _"Four!" Granger scoffed, indignant that she had to correct him._

 _Draco looked at her in contemplation for a moment. "Really? It seems so much longer than that with your constant nagging and know-it-all ways. I feel like a hundred years old as much as you've exhausted me." At the incredulous look she shot him, Draco chuckled. "Whatever Grange, the point is that I know you by now."_

 _"You most certainly do not!" Granger scoffed again._

 _"I do."_

 _"Name one thing."_

 _"Your hair is in a ponytail today."_

 _Hermione barked out a bitter laugh. "Well, spotted, Malfoy." She deadpanned. "That's one superb eyesight you've got right there."_

 _"You're always moody when your do your hair like that. Just like now."_

 _"That's ridiculous!" When he stared at her blankly, clearly unimpressed with her outburst (as if to say 'behold: evidence A') she blushed and quickly looked down to the folded hands in her lap._

 _"Also, you lost your case, which I told you, you would by the way. It was a horrible proposal to begin with, no pureblood wi–"_

 _"Cut to the case, Malfoy." She cut off._

 _"Right. So you're even more angry because of that."_

 _"Doesn't take a genius to know that. Nor does it take someone who knows me."_

 _"Also, that muggle coffee machine you dragged into this place still isn't fixed, so that doesn't bid well for your mood throughout the day either. I imagine the blouse-change this afternoon wasn't just for the fun of showing me your crème bra either and then we all know how much you love Wednesdays."_

 _Draco smirked knowingly at the end of his speech and if it wasn't for the fact that Hermione was absolutely flabbergasted, she would've slapped the smirk right of his face. He had noticed all that?_

 _He noticed when she'd last ate, what the specific color of her bra was (seriously what boy said crème instead of white? She said white and she was a girl for goodness sake!) and when she did or did not wear a ponytail and how it affected her mood?_

 _She hadn't even noticed him at all today! Except for the part he laughed at her state of undress._

 _"My-my, thank you, Malfoy, for describing my horrible day so perfectly to me." Hermione snarled annoyed. "Wouldn't wish to forget a single detail. Still, I don't see how any of my shitty day relates to you knowing me at all. Nor does it relate to me wanting to eat at home."_

 _"Granger, Granger." He tsk-ed. "If I noticed all that just today, I sure as hell have noticed other things in the past four years working together. Like the fact that you haven't left the office before 10pm in weeks now, unless it's Friday and you've got plans with Weaselette, Scarhead or even worse: both. You don't have a life since Weasel dumped you. It's quite pathetic really."_

 _Hermione glared at him. They both knew Hermione had dumped Ron and not the other way around. Hell, Malfoy had been the one cheering her on to do so. The reasons for not wanting to be home was pretty much a result of said break-up too: In the past few weeks, Ron had developed the habit of coming by her apartment when he was drunk, claiming to want her back. When she didn't open the door he got angry and would shout and pound on the door for minutes, sometimes even for hours._

 _Not that Malfoy needed to know that._

 _"Point is, you're in an awful mood and since I still wanted to go over a few cases with you…" Malfoy continued, opening the boxes in front of him, revealing steak. "I figured I'd numb the beast first."_

 _"Steak?" Hermione chocked out, ogling the meat lustfully. "Where the hell do you get take-out stake?" It was her favorite on days like these._

 _"Du Châvelet" Malfoy shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal he just so happened to get 'take-out' from a Michelin Star restaurant._

 _Forgetting all of her resolve, Hermione stared at the opened box in front of her in awe for a moment. Tentatively, she let her eyes drift upwards again, briefly meeting the gaze of the silver-eyed man who'd brought her this holy gift._

 _Normally, she didn't like meat.  
On a day like this: it was the best!_

 _Whether it was a coincidence or a carefully worked out plan, she did not know – although with Malfoy nothing ever truly was coincidental – but neither did she care._

 _"Merlin." Granger chuckled, although it came out more like a giggle, before she picked up the silver cutlery and dug in. She vaguely registered how Malfoy seated himself on the chair on the other side of the desk and took out his own take-out box. She didn't mind. In fact, she was pretty sure he would've been able to sit down on top of her lap and she wouldn't have cared as long as she had this heavenly food in her mouth._

 _This must be the best day she'd had in weeks._

 _End of flashback_

Snapping out of her train of thoughts she made her way over to the coffee shop across the street. She and Ginny had often sought refuge there, during the direct aftermath of the War. It had been a period of serious turbulence in the Wizarding World and since the mood inside the Burrow had been chilling to the bone, the girls had adopted this cute little café in the middle of Muggle-London as their sanctuary and 'happy-place' when they didn't want to deal with any negativity.

The coffee house had a homey feeling and was just as untidy and shabby as the Burrow always had been, which was exactly why they both liked the place. As months turned into years, life at the Burrow and the rest of the Wizarding World went more and more back to how it once was before the war, but still the girls tended to meat each other here regularly, especially once became clear that Hermione's fame as Golden Girl in Wizarding-London was not about to fade away quickly.

Walking into the cozy café and making the little old-fashioned bell on the door ring softly, Hermione immediately spotted the red hair of her best friend, already seated on the green couch by the window: their favorite spot.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Hermione made her way over to the red-haired girl still unaware of her arrival.

"Hi, Gin." Hermione's voice trembled before Ginny's head snapped around to look at her.

"Hermione!" Ginny breathed, relief and joy clear on her face for anyone to see. The redhead smiled warmly, ready to stand up and hug her long-time best friend when her eyes roamed from Hermione's face southward, only to stop at the small yet firmly distinctive baby bump.

Hermione's heart was wildly pounding in anticipation and anxiety, desperate for Ginny to react, to say something, anything at all. And sure enough, after what seemed like an hour of Ginny staring at her belly, making Hermione feel utterly uncomfortable, the girl finally did.

"Oh, sweet Merlin."


End file.
